Politics and Players
by snarechan
Summary: Seifer and Hayner have to fight over everything, and as adults that hasn’t changed.


Politics and Players

By Snare-chan

**Pairings**: Implied Seifer/Hayner**  
Ratings**: T  
**Category(ies)**: General  
**Warning(s)**: None  
**Status**: One-shot, complete  
**Summary**: Seifer and Hayner have to fight over everything, and as adults that hasn't changed.

**Notes**: A spur of the moment attempt that wasn't really spur of the moment, come to think of it. I was searching for some Seifer/Hayner, and I _did_ find some particularly good ones to read, but either I wasn't looking in the right places or there just wasn't as much out there as I thought because I didn't end up reading very much. So I decided to write my own, though in the end my own contribution is on the mild side considering how subtle the relationship is. Aw well, my first tries usually are. :V

**[Edit]**: I tacked on an epilogue. I had originally intended for this story to have one, but because the writing process dragged on so long, I left it out. As a tiny gift to ShadowSpirits, I typed it up for her as a surprise!Christmas present and have since updated this story.

**Disclaimer**: I dun own Kingdom Hearts; wish I did like everyone else. They should put KH in stock, then I'd buy it all!

* * *

It was a blistering summer day, complete with cloudless sky and a resounding heat wave. That was common for Twilight Town this time of year; the sun was unhindered near the horizon and the breeze nonexistent. The world's residents didn't have much to worry about, though, because shade was abundant, air conditioners were on full blast, and Hayner was there to the rescue.

Whistling a nonsense tune, he went about setting up shop: an ice cream cart. After he'd graduated school, he was strapped pretty badly for munny and went hunting for odd jobs. He was (_very_) distantly related to the man who ran the cold goods market in town, and persistently hounded said owner with stories about family responsibility until he caved. It didn't have the best pay, and the hours weren't much, but it was a good start, since it was better than not working at all.

That, and when it got to be too hot out, he'd stick his face into the cooler.

Being a weekday – Monday – meant business would be slow, so he set up a chair and sat back to wait for customers to stream past. The local kids were pretty regular but wouldn't be out playing until after lunch, and there was a cute girl from one of the nearby shops who occasionally visited to grab one of the various popsicles (since their business could be slow, too). Aside from that, it was pure chance whether or not he served anyone.

A few minutes later, halfway through his reading of Struggle Elite, issue number five, the hairs on the back of his neck unexpectedly stood up on end. It was his patented Jerk Sense, and it was tingling.

"Well, well, well. Check it out Rai, Fuu – businesses really are hiring lamers these days. Talk about low standards."

Bristling behind his periodical, he couldn't hide the fact that his hands fisted around the edges of the paper and crumpled it slightly at the grating sound of that _unfortunately_ familiar voice. Muttering something darkly that was too hard to decipher, he tried to convince himself that if he ignored them, they'd go away.

"What was that, _chicken wuss?_"

"I _said_," Hayner ground out through clenched teeth, "we're closed. So go away."

"Funny, this card here says you're open for business."

Lifting his eyes up high to glance narrowly over the top of his magazine, he took in the sight of Seifer and his immediate posse. He was dressed in a freshly pressed, blindingly white suit and blue silk vest, blond hair gelled back except for one little tip up front that rebelled against the cause. _You go, little strand of hair_ Hayner thought idly as he also took note of Rai and Fuu being dressed in matching blue suits with white shirts. They managed to give off that bodyguard vibe despite lacking black clothes and matching sunglasses.

Seifer, in the hand that wasn't wielding a briefcase that could be used to bludgeon innocent bystanders, was holding up a card that read "Open." Gritting his teeth, Hayner stood and tried to snatch it, but the other man held it out of reach.

"Give that back!"

"Say 'pretty please.'"

"What are you, _five?_" Hayner snapped, making another wild grab for it.

"What are you, inconsiderate? Oh, wait, obviously. Didn't Mommy have time to teach you any manners?"

Growling, he forewent dignity and leaned full-body over the cart, snatching the card and roughly setting it back in its proper place with "Closed" facing forward this time.

"_There!_ Now come back later – or better yet, don't come back at all."

"This is terrible customer service. Wouldn't you complain to the manager if you were me, Fuu?"

"Yes," she said, in that almost-dull tone of voice that she was renowned for.

That caused Hayner's lips to thin into a straight line, giving a lot of serious consideration to just packing up shop for that day. But…he _couldn't_ lose this job, and he was barely keeping it as it was. If Seifer went through with his threat – and, having grown up with his spiteful tendencies since they were little, he understood it as _fact_ that he inevitably would – then his position could be compromised.

_What I do for a living_ he mused dejectedly, saying out loud instead, "Sorry for the inconvenience. How can I be of service to the Mayor's _lackey?_"

The three of them frowned at once, and Rai growled, "He's the Mayor's _aid_, y'know. Fuu has to remind me every day, so I _know_ for a fact that's what the position is called, y'know!"

Hayner, unimpressed and unapologetic, said, "Whatever."

"Sea-salt ice cream, on the double," Seifer demanded, looking over his shoulder at his friends. "And whatever these two want."

"Watermelon," Fuu requested.

"Oh, oh, oh, I want the one shaped like a Moogle, y'know?!" Rai said, thrilled. He was probably getting it more for the gumball that made up the pom-pom of the Moogle than the actual ice cream.

Grudgingly, Hayner slid the cart's shelf back and found the requested items, handing them back to the proper requesters.

"That'll be-"

"Put it on my tab," Seifer informed, sauntering off as soon as the popsicle stick was in his grasp.

"We don't make tabs!"

But it was too late; the three of them had gone, leaving Hayner a good five-hundred munny in the hole and minus three ice creams. Scowling, he had the sense to turn the sign back over to say "Open" once again before flopping back in his seat.

* * *

"Here you go!" Hayner said, giving a woman two cones topped with vanilla on them. One went to her daughter, who cheered and tried to make quick work of it when it was in her grasp. "Thanks, that'll be 250."

The mother paid and thanked him in return as they carried on; the little girl waved goodbye to him, practically skipping. Thinking he was finished, Hayner was situating himself back when he heard a soft "ahem!" Jumping, he looked around critically, trying to pinpoint the location of the noise. The only spot he couldn't see well was the opposite side of the cart, and since that was the last place, he tentatively took a peek.

Vivi stood there, his large, round, yellow eyes peering up at him from the darkness his enormous hat created. His jacket had remained untouched, but he was also wearing patched blue pants – most likely to match the group he hung out with on occasion. Surprisingly, Hayner didn't have a big problem with him, despite his association with Seifer and his pack of bullies. When they talked it was on good terms, and in a way, he thought the other was too adorable to be mad at.

"Sorry that I missed you, Vivi. What can I do for you?"

"Three sea-salt ice creams for Seifer, Fuu, and Rai…and can I get something, too? Please?"

He couldn't help scowling a little at the request, though it wasn't directed at Vivi. It appeared at the thought of not being worth Seifer spending his supposedly valuable time to get the food himself. If ice cream wasn't packaged, he'd spit on the jerk's for this.

"Yeah…yeah, you can. What'll it be?"

"Oh! Um, what would you recommend?"

"Uuuuh…I got a lot of cherry popsicles today, or if you like strawberry ice cream, I can scoop some of that for you."

"A cherry popsicle would be great!"

Hayner handed them over, saying, "That'll be seven-hundred munny."

"Thank you! Seifer told me to say that you can put this on his tab, too."

By the time Hayner had stopped mentally cursing the egotistical man, it was too late for him to inform Vivi that there were no such things as tabs, for he'd waddled off while he was distracted.

* * *

This happened several more times during the course of the summer. No matter how hard, or how often, he would try to protest, whenever Seifer or anyone who worked for him stopped by, Hayner found himself missing a bit of stock and underpaid. In a sneaky attempt to lose them, he'd tried to change locations, but no matter where he set up, he was discovered.

_When did this job get complicated?_ he wondered, not for the first time. Hayner was just minding his own business, trying to earn an honest living. Was that too much to ask? It made him a bit envious of his friends, who had gone off to bigger things, like Pence, who was able to work in his family's restaurant. No one bothered him there and he was sure his earnings surpassed minimum wage.

Putting on a brave face, Hayner smiled at the shop lady who often paid him a visit. He recognized her as an old classmate of his, someone he hadn't known by name back then (it was Garnet, for the record) but whom he definitely knew by face. She'd been homecoming queen and didn't work to earn a living so much as to get out of her house.

Hayner couldn't remember when the tradition started, but they were on a first name basis these days. They talked occasionally, when the day was dragging and she was on break. Today, she came before Seifer, and to dish some of the guy's medicine right back at him, he was purposely dragging out a conversation with the woman. He enjoyed talking with her, anyway, and making Seifer's scar do an odd little dance as his eye twitched in impatience was a perk.

"So how's business?" he drawled casually, _slowly_ scooping out some orange sorbet for her. "I heard the owner is thinking about expanding. Is that true?"

"Yes, she is. The accessory shop is running out of room, and she wants to add boots, armlets, and gloves to the selection. You should visit sometime! There's a sale going on, and I can let you borrow some of my worker discounts," Garnet informed him.

"You don't say!" he said cheerfully. "Maybe I will. I haven't gone in a long time, and I do need a new belt. What do you think? Anything that matches my uniform?"

Said uniform was his usual street clothes plus a red apron with the ice cream place's logo across the front. Nothing fancy, and he liked it that way, but he was still buying time. Finishing off her order, he handed it to her with a spoon, but instead of ushering her along, he purposefully leaned against the cart and kept his attention pointedly on her. Seifer could continue to wait.

"I'm sure there's something! The store has so much."

Suddenly, Seifer was there, cozying up to her and shoving munny right under Hayner's nose, causing him to start back in surprise or risk getting smacked.

"Here, I noticed you were getting something. Let me pay for that," he offered, flashing a smile that Hayner _swore_ twinkled.

Garnet looked torn, and her pause was Hayner's chance to say, "What, you can throw that around for others, but you're too _cheap_ to pay for yours?"

"The Twilight Disciplinary Party upholds a very strict budget, but it's never out of the question to help a valuable citizen. As the current candidate for the position of mayor, what with our current overseer retiring, I make it my personal duty to lend a hand when I am able."

Hayner's mouth gradually went unhinged during Seifer's speech, and when it was finished he said, "Twilight Disciplinary _what now?_ Candidate for _mayor?_ You're just a corrupted lackey! No one would be crazy enough to vote for you!"

"Oh yeah? You think you can do better?" Seifer scoffed, daring to throw in an eye-roll to complete the message delivery. "Please, don't make me laugh. You wouldn't know the first thing about running a town."

Quietly, Garnet aimed to interject, holding up a finger to try and gather their attention. Hayner didn't see her, though, because his vision was red and totally focused on the giant _oaf_ loitering around his establishment.

"You think you're so smart? That you're better than me? Well think again! I CHALLENGE YOU TO THE POSITION OF MAYOR!" he ended by shouting.

Without his consent, his body scaled the cart so that he was standing on top of it and towering over everyone, pointing a finger down at Seifer as he issued his dare. When he gathered his wits about him, Hayner faltered, noticing that all the people who were perusing the Tram Common were regarding him with mixed reactions. Garnet was hunched inward, as if wanting to disappear, and Seifer looked amused.

"You're on. Elections are in two weeks. See if you can pull yourself together by then," he enlightened, snatching a sea-salt ice cream from the cart still at Hayner's feet and carrying on like nothing odd had transpired.

* * *

"Come on, Olette! You just gotta help me!" Hayner begged, literally on his knees as he looked imploringly at his best friend for years over the reference desk. She was attending Twilight University and to help with tuition, she worked part time at the school's library.

"If you don't, I'll never win enough votes!"

Olette whispered, "Please stop yelling! This is a library; you have to be polite, okay? And I already told you, I can't. I'm taking sixteen credits and have tons of papers to write. I don't -"

"Just picture it, Olette. Seifer in office – not as a subordinate, but as _the man in charge._ No one that evil should be given that much power. He's capable of anything; maybe he'll shut down The Usual Spot or ban us from eating at the clock tower."

"Don't be ridiculous." She sighed, picking up a stamp and starting to go through the returned books. "We haven't done those things for awhile now, and I'm sure he has more important things to see to. And besides, this isn't child's play! You should take it seriously; it's not on par with a Struggle match."

Hayner sulked, slinking further onto the desk. He acknowledged that what she was saying was true, that it was foolish to take on Seifer at a game he didn't know how to play, but that hadn't stopped him before. In the beginning, the idea had come to him and then scared him a little, but as he gave it more thought, he realized that he _needed_ to do this. Maybe he wanted to prove something, and he wanted to wipe that smirk off the other's face so bad he could taste it, or… There were other reasons – big reasons – he just couldn't think of them right then.

"Please, please, _please_ Olette? This would mean a lot to me. I'd…I'd clean your dorm for a week, or let you be my secretary."

She raised an eyebrow at him, hand poised to slam the stamp down on a book, and while she was going for intimidating, it had no effect on him whatsoever. He smiled wide, going for a look between innocent puppy dog and adorable little boy.

"Well, you're already good at the campaign promising part," Olette conceded.

"So you'll help me?! WOOHO-"

Grimacing, she placed a hand over his mouth to silence his wild cheers. A couple of patrons gave them both chastising looks for the noise.

"Sure, I'll assist you. But I won't do everything for you – I'll point you in the right direction, but you're on your own after that."

Laughing, he gave the palm of her hand a grateful kiss. He said something too, but neither of them could make it out until she removed her hand.

"-count on you! So where do we start?"

"_We_ start by finding you some material on the matter, and then _you_ start reading it."

* * *

Nervously perched on his bed, which had become too small for him for some time now, he gazed down at the mountain of books Olette had checked out for him. There were ones about Twilight Town's laws and charters, on election information and past mayors, a couple with titles he couldn't quite understand and some completely without. It was intimidating, looking at all the subjects he would have to learn in less than two weeks. At times like this, he wished he'd paid attention in his government education classes.

Cracking the spine of one, he eyed the first page, the table of contents alone spanning about six. He gulped, reminding himself that if Seifer could memorize this kind of stuff, then so could he. There couldn't be much to it if a blockhead like him, or better yet, someone like _Rai_, was capable of maintaining a spot in the mayor's office.

That night, he took notes until his hand cramped and he fell asleep with a book over his face, never having studied so hard in his life.

* * *

It was late afternoon, and Hayner was making rounds around Twilight Town. Olette and he had brainstormed the other day on campaign ideas, needing to get word out that he was going to be running for office. She'd suggested sending letters, and that got him to thinking about advertisements. This was going to cost him, of course, so he had to get creative about it.

When he was younger, he used to deliver the mail and do poster duty, so he struck a deal with both of his former employers. If he was allowed to have letters and posters made, he'd deliver the former along with the post office's other rounds and hang the latter himself, coupled with some of the manufacturer's other posters, for free. The creation of the posters and letters were half-price that way and he wasn't charged extra for distribution.

He talked Pence into helping, so his two friends took some of the workload off him. Olette would do it around her campus, Pence the area around his work, and Hayner everywhere else. He had to wait until he got to close shop in the afternoon, but in a town where the sun was eternally stuck between night and day, it wasn't like hours were an issue.

Skateboarding around, he slapped posters up at the same time as he pushed letters into mailboxes or people's hands, thankful for all his years of practice. It was a good way to stay in shape, and it was definitely paying off as he was able to hurry along.

The length of the final stretch proved harrowing as something got caught in his wheels and sent him flying, landing smack on his face as he wiped out. The letters were thankfully in a satchel he was carrying with him, but the posters had been held loose and got carried away by the wind. Groaning, he rolled over onto his back, holding his aching head. He could distinctly feel a scrape marring his forehead where it'd grazed the ground.

"What the…?"

"No, don't bother getting up. You look fine down there."

Resisting the urge to snarl, he snapped his head around too fast and felt a woozy sensation as he tried to regard Seifer, who was standing with one foot stuck out. He'd tripped him!

"Why you-! That really hurt!"

"Suck it up. You're not even bleeding."

Hayner jumped to his feet, another bout of vertigo threatening to overtake him, but he braced himself against it.

"What are you doing here, anyway? Don't you have adorable little animals to terrorize?"

"Don't be stupid. I wouldn't bother with such small fry," Seifer snorted, and looked over at a building.

It was the large, blank wall near the underground entrance. Reluctantly following his example, he could make out the presence of Rai and Fuu on the roof, fiddling with something. That something revealed itself to be a _huge_ promotional poster – the kind that was made on expensive, weather resistant material. They'd attached it to the edge of the roof and let it unravel as it tumbled towards land. Seifer's ugly mug was zoomed in on, and the slogan, "_A successful vote is a vote for me!_" spanned the open space beside it.

"Nice work, guys!" Seifer congratulated, giving them a thumbs up.

Shamelessly gaping, Hayner's arms went lax at his sides and he could feel his jaw gravitating towards the ground as he continued to behold the propaganda. In comparison, it made his poster and letter scheme seem pathetic.

"It's _hideous_," he fumed. "'A successful vote is a vote for me'? What does that even mean?!"

"It means I'm a winner and you're a loser."

"There's still a week and a half to go. You watch yourself, Seifer, because I'm not going to give up!"

Pleased to have delivered _that_ message at least, he flipped his skateboard back into position and rode off. He hoped the other got a good look at his back, because it was all he was going to be seeing from then on. He would make sure of it.

* * *

Plan B was difficult to execute, taking up to two days of extreme arranging and saving, but in the end he desperately wished it would pay off. The gentleman who ran the ice cream carts and stores in Twilight Town, who he referred to as U (the "U" was short for uncle, even though he was more like a second uncle on his mother's sister's husband's side, but that was still _his_ uncle in _his_ book), promised to let him give free ice cream away, providing he paid for it.

He got a discount because he was related, but it added up real quick. He had to give up a few paychecks, and even then he was going to come up a bit short. The carts were only used during the warmest months, which were marked by the beginning and ending of school, and it wouldn't be much longer now until children returned. Hayner would have to find a second job to pay the man back, but there were a few he was sure he could snag.

Right then, he tried not to worry about it. He had voters to convert, entertain, and convince, and that's just what he was going to do. His customary colors were shades of green, so he was handing out mint-orientated treats. He personally signed each package and shook the hands of all the customers, and to his delight, he was actually starting to draw a crowd.

"Wow, Hayner! Look at all these people," Garnet gushed, walking over for her usual visit and having to fight the horde to get through.

"I know! I can't believe it, but it was pretty genius to give away ice cream on a summer day, right? I should have thought of this sooner."

She thanked him as she was handed a cup of mint chocolate chip ice cream, and though he tried to refuse it, she paid for it anyway.

"Consider it my apology for earlier."

Hayner frowned, confused.

"What do you have to be sorry about?"

"I feel responsible for getting you into this."

"Nah, Seifer and I… We've fought since… Man, I can't remember. I don't even remember how it started, or why – it's been that long, see? The two of us have competed for everything. It's in our nature."

It was true. They'd lived in Twilight Town since they were born, and had grown up there together. They would probably die in Twilight Town, when the time came. There was something in the bricks, in the sunset, in the way this town _existed_ that drew a certain sort of individual to it. People might go away for a time, but they would return, just as the trains came and went.

And they had always been at odds. One of his earliest memories, possibly his _first_ memory, was of Seifer picking on him and his friends. There were more, of course, of food fights in the cafeteria, Struggle matches, and years and years and _years_ of being at one another's proverbial throats. Some of their disputes were stories of legend.

"Speak of the devil…" Hayner murmured, spotting Seifer and his two loyal misfits trailing behind him.

Once he was within earshot, he demanded, "What's going on?"

"Why Seifer, my respected rival; so glad to see you!" Hayner said, and Seifer's eyes grew wide, as if he'd replaced all his limbs with Struggle bats. Rai and Fuu plainly looked disturbed.

"Here, have some free ice cream. I promise not to put it on your 'tab;' this is completely on me," he continued, autographing one of the cups already filled with the frozen treat, and held it out to him.

"Oh, that's nice of you, y'know!" Rai laughed, reaching for it, until Fuu elbowed him in the gut. He grunted, holding his stomach instead, and looked wounded in more than one sense of the word.

"We're not interested, but _thanks_," Seifer said tersely, glaring first at Rai and then Hayner. "We were just wondering what all the commotion was about, but I can see now that it's nothing important."

"Boring," Fuu agreed, turning on her heel and following her boss as they stormed away. Rai gave the ice cream a meaningful look before sadly following his companions.

_Hayner: 1, Seifer: 0_ he mentally rejoiced.

* * *

The rivalry between them picked up in fervor after that. It was an all out fight to the finish, and Seifer and Hayner were putting their all into it. Posters covered every visible surface, be it a wall, door, or window, in certain cases. Seifer had paid the train stations to put some of his ads on their automated speaker systems, and Hayner had gone to Pence and talked his parents into letting him hold a rally at their restaurant.

There wasn't much effort required – he and Pence were close, and his parents loved him like a second son. His friend's mom in particular was always sociable, shoving pies and cookies and whole first course meals at him and ordering him to get some meat on his bones. They were cool with the idea, delighted that it would generate business and help him with his cause.

A minor – _very minor_, mind – issue was present, however…and that was his fear of public speaking. It was borderline phobia with how he hated to give speeches. Sure, put him in front of a group of people for a Struggle match and he'd never panic, but when he had to organize words and tell them to a sea of faces, his sweat glands exploded, he lost his voice, and he felt faint. The fact was embarrassing, but it was a weakness he couldn't combat and win.

"How do I look?" he rasped, adjusting his clothes.

The only professional attire he owned was a clean pair of slacks that he'd never worn, the creases so straight because the pair of pants had remained folded on the top shelf of his closet, and a nice shirt that his mother had dug up from the attic. It'd been washed the day before and ironed, as evidenced by how the collar was choking him, it was so flat. He couldn't stop fiddling with the cuffs, unsure if he appeared more proper with them up or down.

"Dude, this is the third time you've asked," Pence told him, starting to sound exasperated. "You look fine!"

"Yeah, really," Olette agreed.

She'd taken the night off to be there in his time of need, helping him analyze his speech and edit it where necessary. She grabbed his wringing hands and slipped the note cards that contained his speech into them.

"You need to calm down. You've practiced this a million times and memorized it," Pence pointed out, offering him a reassuring smile.

Olette nodded, again in agreement.

"You'll do fine. We both believe in you," she said. "Now go out there, tell them all the great and important things you'll do for them, and you'll be done before you know it."

"Yeah…yeah! You're both right. I can do this," he declared, puffing up his chest and strutting towards the stage.

He stopped short as he saw past the curtains, making out the sheer number of people that had actually taken the time to stop in and listen to him. The restaurant, which was by no means small, was packed to the point that extra chairs had been brought in to accommodate people, filling the walkways and back of the establishment. More were standing.

"I can't do this," Hayner amended. "I think I'm going to be sick."

Without warning, Pence and Olette shoved him in the back and forced him onto the mock stage that had been erected for him. He stumbled, righting himself by making a mad grab for the wooden podium centered on the stage. Hayner nervously lifted his head, taking in face after face, everyone's focus centered on him, judging what he had to say.

By sheer force of will, he took a step and a half to get situated behind the podium. Shuffling his cards, he timidly greeted the crowd with, "Um…hi."

Crickets could have been heard over the silence that was created, or a pin drop, considering not a single person said anything in response. There wasn't a cough or a sneeze to disrupt the quiet. Not unless one was willing to count the frantic beating of his heart in his own ears.

Scanning the crowd, he saw Pence and Olette take their seats. Garnet was near the middle, and gave him an encouraging wave. Near the kitchen doors stood Pence's parents and Hayner's own mother, who had switched from third to second shift to be there, and he managed a weak smile just for her. The most surprising guest, though why it boggled his mind he couldn't tell, was Seifer, lounging against the frame of the entrance, with Fuu and Rai filling the rest of it. His arms were crossed over his silk-shirt adorned chest, and as they locked eyes, the other's lips quirked in a deliberate smirk.

Forgetting everything, clearing his mind and focusing on that _brainless, arrogant, conceited, vain _grin, Hayner took in a large breath and gave the speech to conquer all speeches. He punctuated in all the correct places, gave precise plans, emphasized his place among the community, didn't stutter, and outlined his intentions as mayor. Best of all, he didn't vomit.

It was absolutely perfect, and by the time he was finished everyone in the building was applauding. The only individual who wasn't enthused was Seifer, who was no longer looking smug in the slightest.

* * *

Hayner grunted and sorted through some more debris, picking out whatever precious metals or useful parts he could find. The old man running the operation these days wanted to recycle more for a bit of extra pay. If Hayner did that and disposed of what was left, he could earn about seventy munny per day.

After seeing the bill for the ice cream give-away, he'd nearly choked and decided to get ahead on paying the owner back. After vending like he normally did, he'd also gotten a job removing bees, the evidence marking his skin where he'd gotten stung. Band-aids littered his arms, legs, and face. They _itched_ like something fierce, but if he scratched them he'd cry out in pain. It made going through all the junk an ordeal, since he had to be careful how he moved.

Lugging the filled box of finds to a designated corner, he half set it down, half dropped it into place. This was the third night he'd been working like this, and it was taking its toll on his body. Pushing his limits wasn't new, but this fast, this often, was. He'd been getting less sleep, too. This combined with his other vices was making life difficult.

Releasing a yawn, he turned to move onto the biggest pile. He wanted to have them all sorted and then begin getting rid of it. The process, he found, was more efficient if he went in that order as opposed to going back and forth for every heap.

He was caught by surprise as he saw someone at the entry, not having heard their approach. Hayner instinctively went into a defensive position, readying in case it was a criminal mastermind or a ninja, but it turned out to be false alarm. It was just Seifer, skulking.

He was standing at the opening, priceless jacket slung over the arm carrying his briefcase, and his presence there was stock still and impersonal. For some reason, it made Hayner feel nostalgic. He'd seen Seifer the playground bully, Seifer the gangster, and this version had to be Seifer the mobster – grown up, changed appearance...and yet, still the same old, same old. It was like changing stripes on a tiger; the pattern might no longer be the same, but it was still a wild cat with razor sharp claws and dagger-like teeth.

The moment wouldn't stay frozen, Hayner shaking his head to clear it, and he said, "Man, you shouldn't sneak up on people like that."

"Why, did I _scare you?_"

"No! But I could have beaten you up by mistake," he clarified. "I mean, it's late to be out, don't you think? Only creeps are hanging around at this hour."

"What does that make you, then?"

"A defender against creeps. _Obviously._"

Seifer's eyelids drooped, unconvinced, and no doubt considering him a many things that may or may not have started with an "I" and ended with "diot." Not that he cared what the other was thinking, of course.

"Seriously, what do you think you're doing? The polls open tomorrow, and you have to be there to see me take my rightful place as ruler of this deadbeat town."

"Don't flatter yourself. If anyone's going to bear witness to an absolute victory, it's going to be you _and _your two shadows," he retaliated. "And for the record, some of us have to actually _work_ for a living. You know, hands dirty, elbow-deep in labor? Don't tell me you're that out of touch with the public."

And suddenly the blond was there, steel-blue eyes connecting with his brown and hook, line, and sinking with a bait and tackle so sharp it would have physically _hurt_ to look away.

"You don't have a _clue_ what I've had to do to get where I'm at," he told him, gruff voice so low but sure that it was impossible not to miss. "Destiny would have me be a secondary character all my life, the guy in the background, but you know what? I don't obey the rules of fate, and I'm going to show it and anybody else who thinks they can hold me back that they're wrong."

Hayner clenched his jaw, refusing to be intimidated, but in the face of that level of conviction, it was overwhelming and kind of tempting.

"I don't know a thing about destiny, or fate, or what have you, but that's because I don't care. I've gotten by just fine without worrying about it, and I'm not going to start now. You want to be mayor to prove something? Fine, that's cool. But don't think I'm going to let you do it by pushing me around."

Leaning in closer, somehow finding the space to fill in between them, Seifer asked, all biting scorn, "I've been pushing you around since we were in diapers, what makes you think I'm going to stop now?"

And he did – he shoved him, hard, right in the chest. Hayner hadn't expected the sudden move and went toppling over, butt landing smack dab on top of a pile of greasy, filthy scraps of rusted pipes and other assorted trash.

From there, the matter escalated.

Hayner let loose a wild war cry and leapt fists first, tackling the other man and sending them rolling in an adjacent grouping of who-knew-what. Some buttons on Seifer's shirt went flying off, Hayner lost a tennis shoe in the scuffle, and together they gave as much as they got. Several scrapes shared later found themselves panting in frenzied, agitated gasps and sitting on opposite walls, glowering through mussed hair and dirtied faces.

"Your speech sucked," Seifer declared, voice raspier than before due to his throat having met with the corner of some box earlier. "The one at the rally, I mean. Talk is cheap, and the kind about being one of the working people and on the same level plane as everybody else is so cheap it ought to be free."

"You're just jealous that I thought to say it first and you didn't," he spat, wiping his nose with the back of one wavering hand, checking for blood.

"You owe me a new suit."

"Sure, where do you want me to get it from? Maybe you're usual place, 'Bad Tastes Express'?"

"Shut _up_," the other growled, tossing what looked like a broken yo-yo at him. His aim was impeccable and would have smacked Hayner cleanly in the forehead, had he not slumped to the side out of exhaustion.

"Make me."

"I know pre-school kids more mature than you."

"Hey," Hayner began, smirking through the pain enough to say what he'd wanted to say for the longest time, "that's still more mature than you."

The irony of this fact – the one about their level of development and how they had just brawled like old times, back in the day when getting dirty didn't matter and getting grounded was the worst of their worries, and how Grown Ups did not do what they'd just done – struck them in the same instant. Seifer, no doubt concerned about his tarnished image, and Hayner, wondering _how_ he had been so overcome with rage to lose his common sense like that, exchanged wary glances on their appearance.

"Don't be late," Seifer muttered at last, righting himself. He tried to brush off his clothes, but it was a lost cause. No amount of super dry-cleaning was ever going to whiten his pants and jacket; neither would a bleach bath.

"Yeah, you too… I'd wish you good luck, but I kind of want it all to myself. I don't think you deserve it."

He wasn't sure why he said that, figuring he wanted the last word or to see if he still had it in him to start a fight with Seifer, even after all that, but honestly, it probably had more to do with the fact that he just didn't know when to quit. He could be laying face down on the ground, every single bone in his body broken, but he would be struggling with the last amount of his strength to get back on his feet. Olette or Pence would tell him that was called being stubborn, but he preferred tenacious.

Seifer paused, hands no longer working on straightening his shirt. Head tilting back to have him look over his shoulder, he looked at him in such a way that, as he talked, it was as if he wanted to say something entirely different than what came out.

"That's fine, I won't need it. But you will – every last bit you can muster."

* * *

The day of the election was gut-wrenching.

Voting would go on until well after dinner, and at 8 P.M. the contributed ballots would be tallied and the results given, while everyone congested the Sandlot in preparation for the announcement.

Where the Struggle ring would have been set up, stands had been situated and a platform had been built. To one side was Seifer, hands casually placed in his pockets and looking confident, whereas on the other was Hayner, who was _trying_ to play it casual and having a more difficult time of it. For reasons he couldn't explain, he was sweating and his nerves were shot.

Pence was with him, offering him ice-cold punch periodically and keeping him grounded. Their other friend, Olette, would be joining them closer to the end of the day. Firstly, because she had a class to attend, and secondly, there wasn't much else to do but wait for that special time to roll out.

"How much longer?" Hayner grumbled. "It feels like it's been an eternity."

"About an hour and a half left to go. Do you need another drink? You're looking pale again."

"_No_, I'm not looking pale, and _no_, I don't need another drink. One more sip and my bladder will burst."

His friend rolled his eyes and kept the beverage for himself, sipping it down as Hayner paced. The activity that he'd _hoped_ would speed up the procedure ended up slowing the passage of time. Whenever he would inquire as to what hour it was or glance at the clock tower, barely a minute had passed, if the hands on the giant clock had moved in the slightest.

"This is agony," he declared at one point, collapsing in the folding chair stationed next to Pence. "At least in sports, the answer is relatively obvious. How long can it take to count a bunch of slips of paper?"

"The town has grown," the other pointed out, "and they're probably double-checking to make sure that they came up with the right number."

"Yeah, I guess…"

Closing his eyes, Hayner let his head fall back on the top of the seat and threw his arm over his eyes for good measure. Maybe if he counted backwards from one-hundred, that would make time fly by…

* * *

The next thing he knew, Olette was present and greeting them with, "Hey, you guys!"

Miraculously, the trick had worked; dosing off between the count of forty and thirty probably helped. Hayner was still in desperate need of catching up on sleep, but all the excitement and work-juggling he'd been doing was taking its toll. He should probably have laid off the espressos, too.

"Hello everyone; thank you for coming. The ballots have been counted, and we have the results."

Everyone present took in the sight of a young, male announcer, who had taken center stage and held a folded piece of paper in his grasp. Hayner forfeited his chair to Olette now that she had arrived, and along with Seifer, took his respective place, readying for the news.

The audience held their collective breath.

"And the winner is-"

The announcer's voice hitched and died, attention refocusing not on the sheet of paper, but on a grayish figure that had taken up residence on the stage as well, completely out of nowhere. It was short and lanky, with no distinguishable nose or eyes on its face. People stared, also, as the creature gathered their notice. A slit that spanned about two-thirds the width of its head unzipped – yes, _unzipped_ – and it released a sound that was felt more than heard, vibrating down to their very bones.

The man with the mic screamed, which started a chain reaction that caused other people to begin yelling, and en mass they clambered from their seats. It was chaos, increasing in catastrophe as more of the monsters swooped in.

Distantly, Hayner remembered the name assigned to them, having encountered them years ago. Nobodies, the weakened forms and souls of people or living creatures that had lost their hearts. They'd invaded Twilight Town previously, but there hadn't been a problem for an extended period. What had caused them to return?

"Hayner, come on! We have to run!" Olette reasoned.

She was already fighting the swarm of civilians trying to escape, her hand clutching onto Pence's and the other reaching for his. He instinctively started to hold his out, but at the last minute…he stopped, and he looked in the direction behind him.

Seifer had unlocked his briefcase, the one he constantly had in his possession, to reveal a metal weapon of some kind. He hadn't been toting around files or statements, but some sort of gun…sword…hybrid… thing. The sight of it in the blond's hands was unsettling, but he refrained from using it with people present to get in the way, which made it slightly better. In the meantime, he was ordering Rai and Fuu to help the residents of the town get out of harm's way.

Regarding Olette again, he shook his head and retracted his hand, shouting to be heard over the din of frightened people.

"No way; you and Pence get to safety. I have work to do here."

His friend's eyes widened in alarm, and she prepared to argue, but the herd of people couldn't be held at bay any longer. She and Pence were swept off and got lost in the crowd. In the meantime, Hayner about-faced and charged headlong into the fray.

"What do you think you're doing?!" Seifer demanded, sweeping his choice of weapon out in front of him to cut a Nobody in half.

"I thought about leaving, but the idea made me feel guilty."

"And you're going to do what, exactly, to defend yourself? Fight barehanded? Puh-lease, leave this to the professionals."

Hayner, not to be outdone or daunted, hurriedly surveyed his surroundings for an object that could serve as a weapon. He spotted a flagpole close by and snatched it by the middle, manipulating it until the base snapped off. With consideration to their local flag, he set it on a podium without letting it touch the ground.

"A stick. A _stick_. How cute," Seifer drawled.

"I basically used one to kick your butt at Struggle," he reminded him, swinging the pole around and knocking three Nobodies aside at once. "Can't be much harder."

"_Once_. You beat me at Struggle once!"

"Details, details. Point is, I'm a master at this, and I won't let anyone beat you but me."

"How touching, but your aid isn't required. You should get out of here while you have legs to run with," the other sneered, actually getting a shot off from the gun portion of his weapon. It was in the form of a giant fireball and easily extinguished a couple of the enemies.

Taking a step back, Hayner was frustrated to discover that his shoulder blades bumped Seifer's, the two of them back-to-back. There was nowhere else to go because they were surrounded.

"Even if I could, I wouldn't," Hayner murmured.

The blond grunted in acknowledgement, hand tightening on the hilt of his mutant baby of a sword and gun.

"If I take on fifty, you think you can handle the half left?"

"Sure, no problem. I could go to bed right now and beat them one-handed."

"I doubt it."

An invisible bell tolled, chiming the next round, and they jumped apart at the same instant.

Those years of growing up, learning when to duck, roll, and attack inside the ring and out were tested to the full extent of his ability. Hayner was a bit clumsy with the mock-spear he'd snatched, but where he lacked in using it he made up in quick footwork and strength. He didn't know when Seifer had trained and adapted to his, but it was apparent that a lot of effort had been put into ensuring that he used it like just another extension of his body. When one of them fell or got besieged, the other would cover for them until they recovered; being a smarty-pants about it was optional.

"Not tired, are you?" Hayner wheezed, hefting two Nobodies into the air. Seifer vanquished them out of the sky with a single shot, exerting what seemed like no effort on his part. Stealing his adversaries...the nerve!

"Not even remotely. You?"

"Nah."

Despite their efforts, they weren't putting a dent in their numbers. Continuing on wasn't impossible, but _how_ long they could hold on was anyone's guess.

And miraculously, it turned out that they didn't have to. Three forms landed nearby, and there was a flash of light as the ground exploded in white. When the action cleared and Hayner regained his eyesight, he let out a shout of approval at seeing Sora, Donald, and Goofy.

"Wow, is it good to see you guys!" he welcomed, running over to them. "You arrived in the nick of time."

The Keyblade wielder smiled and bro-fisted him in greeting. He had grown – like, _really_ grown – since the last time he'd seen him, the brunet easily towering over Hayner and probably close to Seifer's current height (even if you excluded the spikes of hair that added a couple of inches, easy). His growth spurt must have held off until the planets had aligned or something.

"No kidding; this place was swarming. I'm glad we passed by when we did."

"I had it under control," Seifer interjected on his approach. He was holding his briefcase again, but had kept his weapon out in case it was called for.

"Where're your manners?!" Donald squawked, stomping his webbed foot. "We saved you and there's no 'thank you'?"

"No time for pleasantries, featherhead," he said, definitely removing any room for it. "There might be more of those things out there and we're wasting valuable time."

"Gawrsh, that's true. We saw more Nobodies by the trains; maybe we should go make sure they're gone."

"Sure, Goofy," Sora agreed. "With us on the job, they'll be cleared out in a jiffy."

* * *

As promised, the Nobody population was dealt with. A lot of adventure was involved, as was fighting and solving mysteries inside a haunted mansion, but given enough resources and effort, they were disposed of. It helped that they had a professional like Sora, who intended to stick around until after the festivities.

When things settled, the announcement of mayor was resumed, setting restored and the citizens of Twilight Town returned. A couple were understandably jumpy, carrying golf clubs or pots and pans to fend off any more surprises. Garnet, who had reclaimed her seat near the front, had a tennis racket at hand.

"Alright everyone, welcome back!" the same announcer as before called. He paused to give the area a serious once-over to ensure that the coast was clear, and discovering nothing new, cleared his throat and continued.

"Here's the news we've been waiting for: by one, single vote, our next mayor of Twilight Town will be…Hayner!"

The crowd erupted, arms flying up, shouts going out, and streamers, confetti and balloons filling the air. But Hayner couldn't hear or see any of it. He was in a daze, unresponsive as his friends jostled and hugged him senseless in congratulations.

_I…won?_ he thought, somehow unable to believe such an occurrence was possible. This was too good to be true; shouldn't winning invoke some kind of powerful feeling – or feelings – in him? Pride, happiness, relief, something?

He came out of it in time to focus on someone's hand being held out to him. It was Seifer's, and though his mouth was set in a hard line and he looked ready to pummel an unsuspecting victim, he didn't say a word or make a move to do so.

Numbly, Hayner reached out and shook his hand – two precise pumps.

Then again, nothing could last.

"Congrats, you've inherited a town of a couple hundred people with a possible Nobody problem. Good luck with that."

Okay, _now_ the fact that he'd won sunk in. But the horror was short-lived as Seifer's crew came to join them.

"Hey Seifer…boss, if this guy won by one vote, why didn't you vote for yourself, y'know?" Rai asked, to which Seifer's mean expression vanished and he hissed for the other never to open his mouth to speak again.

Three points occurred to Hayner, in slow succession.

"Wait, as candidates, we're allowed to vote?" he gasped in realization. "_And_ for ourselves, if we wanted?"

"Duh," Fuu supplied, her visible eye drooping further than usual to give him the full-on deadpan experience.

"You're telling me you never voted?" Seifer snapped, and in a rare drop in character he pinched the bridge of his nose. "I can't believe I lost to a moron like you."

"Because you voted for _me_," he stressed, coming to realization number two.

"My vote is classified-"

"You voted for _me_. Seriously, you voted for me, even after all the sass you gave me about my campaign. That's sweet of you."

Seifer looked prepared to be ill.

"What Rai said was slander; it was fabricated. A lie. I wouldn't vote for you even if you were the last candidate in the universe."

"You say that now, but your secret is out. I see through you; you actually admire my work and what I stand for," Hayner said, laughing.

That's when realization number three hit.

"Which is a good thing, considering that, as residing mayor, that officially makes you my _lackey._"

"Mayor's _aid_, y'know," Rai corrected, at the same as time Seifer declared, "I quit."

"Go ahead; have fun looking for a new job. I heard the ice cream business is hiring."

With that parting shot, he left Seifer to steam about his predicament. Personally, he had a party in his honor to attend.

**Epilogue**

The office was big.

Like, _really_ big. Hayner would go so far as to argue that it was larger than a good half of his house, with space to spare for the furniture taking up what it needed. There was a desk with a comfortable chair, with smaller, matching ones in front for guests, and lots of dark wooden shelves for his use.

They were empty now, and the walls were bare, since the previous mayor had retired and taken his personal effects with him. That sort of blank space was adding to the overall huge feel, he knew, but he couldn't envision it getting cozier even with the addition of his own books, photographs, and decorative knickknacks.

Surveying the room again, he couldn't resist bouncing on his heels on the plush, red carpet. He was standing in the middle of the room, kind of in awe that this belonged to him, and occasionally the fact escaped and he gazed around like a lost kid. He felt that he practically _could _get lost here, finding himself stuck between filing cabinets, under his desk, or sinking into the carpet to never be found by his friends.

It was overwhelming, despite his inauguration into the mayor's office going smoothly. The guy before him was easily fifty or sixty years his senior and had a lot more experience than him, this fact evident in how easily he carried himself. He looked so _natural_ when he shook his hand to symbolically pass the responsibility onto his shoulders, resembling a grandfather more than a politician as he went through the motions. Hayner desperately hoped that someday he'd be as collected and relaxed in this position as his predecessor was.

Pushing such worries aside as best he could, he walked over to his proverbial throne and flopped back into the seat. This was the first time he'd taken the chance to sit in it, despite having visited the office on several occasions since becoming mayor. It was an odd thing to admit, but he wanted to wait until he felt he was ready. The chair was cushy and wide, Hayner hardly filling it and getting the sensation that it was enveloping him. Still, somehow it was not as frightening as he'd imagined it would be.

That was when he realized he might just be able to get used to this. He wasn't aware of _how _he was going to do that, or when he'd have eased into the job like a second skin, akin to how Struggle made him feel at home whenever he played it, but he understood that no matter how out of his element he was at present, it wouldn't remain that way forever.

He was contemplating how many pictures of him, Pence, and Olette he should hang up (maybe he'd make a collage on every wall?) when a Heartless – oops, _correction_ – Seifer entered the sanctity of his office. Fuu and Rai were lacking in attendance, and for a brief moment he was actually alarmed at that fact. Hayner wasn't aware that they could be separated; he'd always assumed they lived, ate, and slept in the same house together. Maybe, he'd even reasoned as a child, they went to the bathroom together, because the idea of even just one of the three missing sent the world off its axis.

"You're late," Seifer announced, forgoing a greeting, and marched over to his desk with sure strides.

"The mayor is _never _late, my good hench-monkey," he corrected, the blond sneering at the new title (an awesome improvement on mayor's aid, if he said so himself). Hayner made sure to tilt his chair back and place his feet on top of the desk, arms resting behind his head in a show of total relaxation. This was _his _domain, and Seifer may have been working here longer, but he wasn't the one in charge.

"I'm not sure how things were run before, but from now on, this place goes by _my _clock."

"So you think, and don't get too comfortable," he warned, suddenly smiling as he said it. "I had to re-schedule two of your morning meetings, the first of which is in five minutes."

Blanching, Hayner sat up straight.

"Meetings? No one said anything about meetings! Since when do I have to go to those?"

"Since, I don't know, _day one?_ I tried to call you, but _mommy_ said you'd left. You seriously need to invest in a cell phone, especially in this day and age."

"I've only been at this for two days; cut me some slack! I haven't gotten my paycheck yet so I can't afford one of those."

Seifer went around to the opposite side and ushered him out of the chair, considering Hayner's efforts to prepare for the upcoming meeting subpar at best. In the process of wrenching him out of his chair by his shoulders and roughly righting his crooked tie, he shoved a cup of cappuccino and a cell phone into his hands.

"There, problem solved. You can thank the taxpayers later."

"You- Isn't using that munny _illegal?_" he said, agitatedly brushing the other off. Idly, he took a sip from the container, expecting a foul drink to bubble up from its dark recesses, but was surprised to taste cinnamon and apple with…was that caramel cream? "And how did you know what my favorite version of this is?"

"Magic," Seifer answered, which in hindsight wasn't really an answer at all. A wicked gleam overcame his eyes – never a good sign, mind – as they came to the door. Fuu and Rai had shown themselves, carting boxes on trolleys that looked filled with folders and paperwork. This, sadly, explained a lot.

"Those…those aren't for me, are they?" Hayner squeaked, fearing he knew the answer.

"Absolutely. Arrived yesterday, and I've already signed off for them. Fuu, Rai, if you'd kindly set those near his desk? He can deal with them this afternoon. _All _afternoon."

They did as they were instructed, Hayner dejectedly following their progress, before glowering over at Seifer.

"You suck for enjoying this."

"You ain't seen _nothing _yet," Seifer ominously declared, and then shoved him in the back through the door. "One minute until the meeting."

Said gathering was about construction on a new project in Twilight Town, namely expanding their train system. It was tedious, boring, and required little input from himself because it was more about updating those in the know and less about problems that needed his attention.

He spent a good amount of it testing out his new cell phone, the guilt from earlier having worn off when he resigned himself to the fact that he _did _need one, and he'd have the munny owed added to his taxes or taken out of his paycheck later. His choice of action probably wasn't the most mature or responsible, but someday soon he'd be accustomed to where he was: older, wiser, and better, like Grandpa Mayor before him.

In the meantime, Seifer was going to be receiving a lot of obnoxious text messages.

-Fin-


End file.
